Chapter 8

I pulled into our drive and saw my mom’s car parked beside the Odyssey. I parked behind the van so as not to block her in. Inside I found her and Andrea sitting on the sectional with a pile of shopping bags on the coffee table that Walter had made for us.

“We went shopping for maternity clothes,” Andrea said, “now that I’m starting to show.”

“I told her to enjoy her second trimester” Mom added.

“I am feeling so much better now that the morning sickness is gone. I feel pregnant but not TOO pregnant.”

“What did you buy?” I asked.

“I will not wear jeans with an elastic front panel,” Andrea replied. “I simply won’t. We bought some smocks and empire waist tunics I can wear with leggings. Annette helped pay for it so it shouldn’t hurt the budget too bad.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “With the furniture Walter has been building for us, we’re doing okay.”

“It gives him a purpose.” Mom added.

“I’m wearing one the outfits we bought today,” Andrea said. What do you think?”

“I think the color looks good on you. It matches your eyes.”

“I think it’s adorable on her,” my mom added.

“If you think it looks okay I’ll wear it tomorrow.” Andrea said.

“What’s tomorrow?” Mom asked.

“Andie’s court date to finalize her divorce. Sarah and I had our final hearing last month. She and I are now officially uncoupled.”

“Bill -- my attorney -- thinks it’ll go smoothly,” Andrea added. “Ben’s bankruptcy is still dragging on, so any property settlement is pending; but that shouldn’t affect the court dissolving our marriage.”

“Then, Andie and I will be free to marry.”

“So long as you’re married before the baby is born, he or she will be legitimate,” Mom said.

“I want to get that done as soon as possible,” Andrea remarked, “before I’m showing so much I look obviously pregnant. Then it looks like a shotgun wedding.”

“What are you thinking about for a ceremony?” my mom asked.

“We were going to go to the courthouse and have a judge or commissioner preside,” I replied. “Sarah and I had the big event and look how that turned out.”

“Same for Ben and me,” Andrea added. “My mother insisted on a big ceremony so long as Ben paid for it.”

“Walter and I definitely want to be there with you -- as witnesses if nothing else.”

“As soon as I have my final divorce order in my hot little hand,” Andrea remarked, “we’re going to the courthouse to get our marriage license. If I recall there’s a one week waiting period before we can have the ceremony.”

“I’ll get it all planned out,” I replied.

“Check with Walter,” my mom said. “He knows this is coming up and may have some ideas on how to make it special. Andie, sweetheart -- I’ll be on my way. It was fun to have a girls’ day out.” She and Andrea hugged and I watched my mother head out the door.

“I just love Annette,” Andrea said. “She came with me for my checkup...”

“How did that go?”

“Good. Dr Lang is pleased with my progress. She said now that I’m in my second trimester, the baby is taking over generating hormones ... which is helping me feel more normal.”

“So, what do we have planned for dinner?”

Andrea grimaced. “We didn’t have time to go grocery shopping ... sorry. We’ll have to go out or carry out. I’m really sorry, Casey ... but I don’t think I can face another take-out from the Chinese place.”

“How about we drive over to the Palace? Maybe you’d be interested in one of their bacon double cheeseburgers. Are you hungry?”

“Casey -- I’m pregnant. Didn’t someone say, I’m pregnant therefore I eat?”

I pulled into a parking stall at the courthouse, near Andrea’s Odyssey. Stepping inside I spotted her on a bench in the corridor. She was wearing the blue empire-waisted A-line dress that she modeled for me. It had short sleeves and its hem was knee-length. “We must stop meeting this way,” I said as I sat beside her. “Have you seen Bill?”

“Not yet but we are a bit early.”

“I think that’s him now.”

Her attorney approached us. “Andrea, Casey ... let’s find a room.”

We followed Bill as he located a vacant conference room. Inside we sat at a table. “This should be a formality,” he explained. “You’re comfortably past the 120-day waiting period, and Ben’s side has stipped to everything we asked for. I should be able to procure a certified order by the end of the week.”

“That’s good,” I replied. “We’re planning on going for our marriage license next week and having the ceremony the following Friday.”

“One of the court commissioners performs marriages every Friday afternoon,” Bill said. “They’re by reservation and the slots fill up fast.”

“I know. We already have time reserved -- 3:45. I understand they go like clockwork.”

“You don’t know of any legal issues that would cause a delay, do you?” Andrea asked.

“No. Up until a few years ago this state had a three-month waiting period between getting a divorce and remarrying; but that requirement was abolished.” He checked his watch. “Time to go in.”

I sat on a bench in the rear of the courtroom. Bill was right -- it was a formality taking less than five minutes. After all the drama with Ben and his attorney, it was a bit of an anti-climax.

I headed back to work and sat at my desk. “That was quick,” Carla remarked.

“Short and sweet -- Ben’s team didn’t even show. Andie is now officially single ... but not for long. If everything goes to plan, in two weeks, she’ll be married again ... to yours truly.”

“How is Andrea doing?” she asked.

“You mean, pregnancy-wise? Great -- no complications so far. She’s in her second trimester and feeling a lot better.”

“I enjoyed my second trimesters,” Carla added.

“You have two kids?”

“A boy who’s twelve and a girl who’s ten. Are you thinking of more kids?”

“I dunno -- we’ll see. I’m not ruling it out.”

“Well, congratulations. Have her stop by the office some day. I’d love meeting her.”

True to Bill’s word, within a couple days an Express Mail envelope showed up at the house with Andrea’s paperwork. The following day she took a trip to the DMV to have her name changed on her driver’s license.

We met on my lunch hour at the courthouse armed with birth certificates, driver’s licenses, a copy of our lease, our divorce decrees and a hundred bucks in cash. We left with our marriage license, which started another clock running -- a seven-day waiting period before the ceremony.

Finally the Big Day arrived. Walter and I had been scheming an after-wedding celebration. I had told Andrea that we were going away for the weekend, but otherwise withheld details. Our bags were packed and loaded into the trunk of my car.

To satisfy my mom’s superstitions, Walter and I left ahead of Mom and Andrea. That way Andrea could change into the dress she and Mom had selected for the auspicious occasion without risking me seeing it and bringing down the curse of God and Satan, too. He and I both were dressed in our Sunday best, even though neither of us ever wore those suits on a Sunday. Walter and I used the time to arrange the final details.

Our appointed time at the courthouse was 3:45. My step-dad and I arrived at 3:30 and we waited on benches in the courtroom where the court commissioner conducted ceremonies. The couple ahead of us were done in ten minutes. I didn’t see my mom or Andrea and was becoming a bit concerned.

I heard our names announced: Rollins and Hagen. Walter and I approached the bench. I turned around and saw Mom and Andrea approaching. Andrea wore a white version of the blue empire-waist dress along with white stockings and a pair of hair clips decorated with white silk flowers. She joined me and we faced the judge.

It only took a few minutes to recite bog-standard vows and to be pronounced husband and wife. We embraced and kissed, then waited for our marriage license to be signed and certified. We kept a copy and another was headed for the county’s department of vital records.

Andrea and I headed back to the house, with my folks following. We had some time to kill so Andrea set out some snacks and drinks we enjoyed in the front room.

“The coffee table really turned out nicely,” I remarked to Walter.

“We love it,” Andrea added.

“It was my pleasure,” Walter replied.

“What did you think of that ceremony?” I asked. “I think that’s the way to do it. If we have a girl and when she’s ready to get married, I’ll tell her if she wants to elope, I’ll hold the ladder.”

“I thought Andie looked beautiful,” Mom said.

“She still looks beautiful,” I replied. “She’s glowing. I think pregnancy agrees with her.”

“My second trimester certainly agrees with me,” Andrea remarked. “My first was a bear and we’ll see how my third goes.”

“Second trimester is when your pregnancy goes on cruise control,” Mom added. “Your baby is developing on its own without needing much from you other than nourishment, and it’s still small enough not to cause you much discomfort.”

“Third trimester is where the rubber hits the road, I imagine,” I said.

“Most moms get pretty uncomfortable by their due dates,” Mom replied. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

I checked the time on my phone. “I think we should get on our way,” I said.

“Where are we going?” Andrea asked.

“Your step-dad-in-law and I have arranged for a celebratory dinner.”

“Dinner? Where?”

“Be surprised.”

“I have no idea,” my mom added.

Andrea and I drove toward downtown. “Are we by any chance going to Farley’s Velvet Room?”

“No comment.”

I pulled up to the Wilmington’s portico and handed the valet the car keys.

“I knew something like this was afoot,” Andrea said. “Are we staying here for the weekend?”

“Yes, I was able to get a room for tonight and tomorrow.”

“What about our bags?”

“Not to worry -- everything is taken care of.”

My folks pulled up and joined us. “Shall we go up?”

We headed into Farleys. “Rollins party,” I said to the hostess.

“Follow me.”

We were seated at a corner table in Farley’s Velvet Room. Our assigned servers set menus before us, as well as water and wine glasses.

Andrea picked up her wine glass. “I won’t be needing this,” she said.

“I called Dr Lang and she says you may have a glass of Champagne on your wedding night.”

“Nonetheless ... I won’t indulge.”

I retrieved a slip of paper from my pocket and handed it to her. She opened it, her jaw dropped and she laughed.

“What’s so funny?” my mom asked. Andrea handed her the slip. “It’s on Dr Lang’s prescription form ... Patient: Andrea Hagen. Rx: I cyath -- that means one glass -- Champagne, ice cold, oral, on wedding night. She drew a wine glass with bubbles and a heart, and signed it Brigitte Lang, M.D. That is sweet.”

“I will want to keep that,” Andrea said and put the slip in her purse.

“Now -- it’s doctor’s orders,” I added.

My mom opened her menu. “There aren’t any prices,” she remarked.

“Casey told me it’s one of the Velvet Room’s quirky traditions,” Andrea replied. “The ladies’ menus don’t have prices, so you can order the lobster without worrying about the arm-and-leg prices they charge. Last time I had the beef Wellington.”

“Was it good?” Mom asked.

“Was it ever!” Andrea said.

“Maybe I’ll have the scallops,” Andrea said.

“Careful with seafood, dear,” my mom interjected.

“They should be well enough cooked to be safe,” Andrea replied.

“Everything here is top notch,” I added. “I had the capon.”

“Maybe I’ll try that,” Mom said. “When were you here before?”

“We came here to celebrate our selling of my interest in the house to Sarah and Paul,” I replied, “and moving out of Dustin’s trailer. We had dinner here and stayed in one of the spa rooms.”

“It was a magical, romantic night,” Andrea added. “It’s one I’ll never forget.”

“And the product of that romantic night is right there,” I said, pointing to Andrea’s belly.

Andrea’s jaw dropped. “Casey!” she hissed.

“It’s all right, Andie sweetheart,” my mom replied. “Don’t be embarrassed. We all know where babies come from.”

“I’m not embarrassed about that. I’m embarrassed that the man I love, the father of my child, my life partner and now my husband ... is such an adolescent horndog!”

“He’s a man, dear,” Mom added. “That’s what men are, and it’s something they never grow out of.”

“I’ll go with the wild boar tenderloin,” Walter said. He looked up from his menu. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing worth repeating,” Andrea replied.

“I think I’m going with the ten-ounce prime rib,” I said.

Our servers took our orders and brought an ice bucket with a bottle of Champagne. “Are we opening this now or later?” she asked.

“With the entree,” I replied.

“So,” my mom said, “did you ever think you’d be where you are?”

“No, never,” Andrea answered. “My life was on a totally different track up until that snowstorm. That changed everything.”

“For me, too,” I added. “You know I’m not religious, but I can’t help wondering if there isn’t some master plan that had our paths crossing during that blizzard and changing our courses.”

“Or,” Andrea remarked, “maybe it is totally random -- a butterfly’s wings in Asia stirring up the atmosphere to grow into a storm that happens to hit us while we’re together. If that lightning bolt had hit that tree half an hour later, things would be totally different.”

Our servers brought our entrees. One of them popped the cork on the Champagne. “Which of you gentlemen would approve the wine?”

“Go ahead, Walter,” I said.

Walter sampled a splash in his glass and pronounced it excellent. She filled our glasses and we held them up.

“To Andrea and Casey,” my step-dad toasted. “A long and happy life together.”

“I’ll second that,” Mom added.

We clinked glasses and sipped the cold bubbly.

Andrea regarded her glass. “This is good ... and it’s something I have missed.”

Our server brought the check, which Walter picked up. We headed for the lobby. “We’ll be on our way,” Mom said. She hugged Andrea. “I am so happy for you ... for both of you. I’ll tell you -- even though I wished it would, I knew Casey and Sarah weren’t going to last. I liked Sarah, but there was something distant about her. I feel close to you and I really feel the love you two have for each other. I’m convinced you have a marriage that’s going to last.”

“Thanks,” Andreas said. “I feel it, too. I know I’m where I belong.”

“Have another romantic, magical weekend,” Mom said.

“We’ll do our damndest,” I replied and Andrea pressed her heel into my instep.

“Good luck, you two,” Walter said.

“Thanks for everything.”

We watched as the valet brought their car and they drove off.

“So, now do we check in?” Andrea asked.

“Already checked in.”

“Where’s our luggage?”

“Already in the room.” I escorted her to the elevator and we rode to the tenth floor. Holding hands we approached the door to our room.

“It’s the same room,” Andrea remarked. “You booked the same room!”

I unlocked the door with the passcard and flipped the security guard so the door wouldn’t re-latch. Then I scooped her up, carried her across the threshold and set her on her feet. Our bags were stacked near the closet and on the foot of the turned-down bed was a box of chocolates with a note reading, welcome back.

Andrea embraced me with tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

“I might be an adolescent horndog,” I replied as I placed the do not disturb tag on the outside door handle and latched the door. “But I’m a romantic one.”

“You sure are.” She covered my face with kisses. “I guess I should take the good with the bad ... because the good sure outweighs the bad.” She kissed me again. “That prescription from Dr Lang -- you went to the trouble to have her write it. I wouldn’t have even thought of it.”

We approached the bed and faced each other. “What do you want to do?” I asked. “Soak in the tub?”

“Maybe in the morning...” She slipped my jacket off my shoulders, removed my tie and began unbuttoning my white shirt.

“Are you buzzed from the Champagne?” I asked.

“From that dinky amount? I can barely feel it ... but what I do feel of it, feels pretty good.”

She undid my belt and waistband, dropping my trousers to the floor. I stepped out of them and removed my socks. “You look beautiful in this,” I said as I fingered the material of her dress. “How does this undo?”

“Button and zipper in back,” she said and turned around. Andrea lifted the dress over her head and set it down. Underneath she wore a white bra, matching high-cut briefs and thigh-high stockings.

“You look so beautiful,” I said. “I love that tummy. You look so sexy.”

“My boobs have grown a full cup size,” she said. “I can’t help thinking that you’re lusting over a different woman.”

I caressed her face and gazed deeply into her clear, blue eyes. “I do love your body, but it’s the woman who lives inside it whom I truly love.”